


when you're mad for no reason at everything at once

by bellawritess



Series: lashton prompts [18]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Communication, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, References to Alcohol, in the past, they get there, well it starts with a lack thereof but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: The empty beer can in the trash is not a good sign.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin
Series: lashton prompts [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026498
Kudos: 5





	when you're mad for no reason at everything at once

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt:** “You started drinking again, didn’t you?” + “But it’s my fault right?” + “You’re lying to me again. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?”
> 
> [tumblr link!](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/631296196556750848/can-i-have-2-4-and-6-together-in-the-same-fic)
> 
> title from young blood by noah kahan
> 
> BIG tw for alcohol and referenced alcoholism

The empty beer can in the trash is not a good sign.

Luke pulls it out and gives it an experimental shake; it’s empty, of course. He glances around, but there aren’t any other cans in the kitchen. Ashton’s not here, at least nowhere Luke can see, and it’s strange that there’s only one beer can here; it’s been awhile since Ashton’s had anything to drink, but when he used to, he never had just one.

It’s not ideal that he’s drunk anything at all, obviously, but maybe he’s only had the one. Maybe.

Luke tosses the can again and goes in search of Ashton.

He isn’t hard to find, although what he’s doing on the bottom step of the stairs, Luke doesn’t know. Ashton’s back is slouching into one wall, the heels of his feet pressed against the opposite one, forehead resting on one bent knee. Luke frowns. 

“Hey,” he says. Ashton doesn’t even look at him.

“Hi,” he says. His voice is scratchy. Luke wonders if that’s from disuse — Luke’s been out for most of the day, had woken and left the house while Ashton had been on a run, so they haven’t seen each other yet — or something else. Crying, maybe. 

“How was your day?” Luke asks delicately. It’s obvious Ashton doesn’t want to talk, but Luke suspects — well — he’s worried, that’s all. 

Ashton shrugs half-heartedly. “‘S fine.”

Luke scrubs a hand over his face. “Okay,” he says, and figures that he needs to be honest, if Ashton’s not going to be honest first. “You started drinking again, didn’t you?” Ashton doesn’t react. “I saw the beer can in the trash.” He’s tempted to say _you could have hidden it a little better,_ but bites it back. Surely Ashton had known, when he’d tossed it, that Luke would find it. He must have.

Then, to Luke’s surprise, Ashton shakes his head. “It’s not mine,” he says wearily. 

Luke blinks. “It’s not _yours_?”

Finally Ashton looks up. His eyes are red, tired. He gives Luke a look that’s somehow broken and reproachful. “Fuck you, Luke. No, it’s not mine.”

Luke jerks at his tone. “Hey, what the hell?”

“It’s not fucking mine,” Ashton repeats. “I had a friend over, he had a beer, he threw it out. I don’t fucking drink anymore.”

Luke flounders. He knows Ashton’s _trying_ not to drink anymore, but people say that and slip. And Luke can’t say that to Ashton, because he doesn’t want to hurt Ashton’s feelings, to make Ashton think that Luke thinks that he could slip.

But it’s the truth, is the thing. Ashton’s strong, but he’s not invulnerable. 

(And it wouldn’t be the first time.)

“Okay, shit,” Luke says defensively. “Sorry. You can’t blame me for —”

“Assuming I’d take it back up?” Ashton glares. “How long have I been sober, Luke? If I was going to backslide, don’t you think I’d have done it already?”

“That’s not fucking fair and you know it. People backslide for all kinds of reasons. Just because you haven’t doesn’t mean you won’t.”

Ashton staggers to his feet. Luke wonders what the fuck is going on, what step he’s skipped. They’re not in sync, and it’s making Luke feel untethered, grasping at air, for a handhold, a foothold, anything to keep him from falling into the abyss. He holds onto Ashton, always, except Ashton’s not there to hold onto anymore, and Luke is reaching for nothing. 

“Fuck you,” Ashton says again. It digs into Luke’s skin, burrows under his chest. He bristles as Ashton makes to step past him.

“What the fuck did _I_ do?” he says angrily. “You can’t be fucking mad at me for worrying.”

“You’re not worrying, you’re hovering,” Ashton snaps, shouldering Luke aside and heading towards his room. Luke grabs his arm.

“Stop being such an asshole,” Luke says fiercely. “Jesus Christ, can we talk like adults? Can you be mature?”

“Can you fucking trust me?” Ashton retorts.

“Can you not talk to me like I’m attacking you?”

Ashton stares at him, opens his mouth and closes it. He stares more, and Luke stares back, refusing to budge. He’s not in the wrong here, or if he is, Ashton can be a fucking grown-up and explain what he’s done. 

“Let go of me, please,” Ashton finally says, more calmly than anything else he’s said since Luke got home. Luke immediately releases his grip on Ashton.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so irritable?” Luke asks evenly. “I actually do love you, you know. I want to help.”

Ashton finally slumps his shoulders and turns his back, heading for the kitchen. It’s not as sharp as before, so Luke follows after him. He leans against the counter while Ashton gets himself a glass of water, drinks the whole thing, and puts the glass in the sink.

“I hate that you don’t trust me,” he finally mutters. “But it’s my fault, right?” Luke bites his lip, silent. Ashton breathes out loudly. “Yeah. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t lie, Luke, it’s unbecoming. Of course it’s my fucking fault.” Ashton sinks his head into his hands and links his fingers around the back of his neck. When he talks, his voice is faraway. “Because I backslid before. I’ve already tried and failed. But Jesus, I wish you trusted me with this.”

“I trust you.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not fucking lying.”

“You are, you’re lying to me again. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?” Ashton says bitterly. “I’m not going to break down if you tell me you don’t trust me to stay sober. I haven’t fucking earned it.”

“I’m not _lying_ , Ashton, I do trust you,” Luke says firmly. “The evidence was stacked against you, what the fuck else was I supposed to think?” He waits, but Ashton says nothing. “It doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. And when you tell me it’s not yours, I believe you. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t leave you alone for long periods of time. If I didn’t trust you, we wouldn’t keep alcohol in the house. Of course I trust you, Ashton.”

Ashton huffs, disbelieving. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t.”

Luke drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “You haven’t given me a reason not to,” he says. And then, hesitantly, “Are you okay? You’re being really hard on yourself.”

Ashton leans further forward until his forehead hits the counter, and then he straightens up. “This fucking sucks,” he declares, with an unhappy grimace. “And that’s a dumb question, because obviously I’m not okay. I don’t deserve your patience. Fuck. I’m the worst.”

“Hey, what?”

“This is hard,” Ashton says. A clear note of misery rings out in his voice. “I mean it’s always hard, but lately it’s been easier a lot of the time, but it was hard today. Being sober is hard.”

Luke inclines his head. “But you’re doing it,” he says encouragingly. “I’m proud of you for it.”

Ashton makes a frustrated noise. “I know, but at what fucking cost? I’m exhausted, I’m miserable, I could use a drink, but I can’t have one without having three, and I can’t even trust myself, so I don’t know why I would bother expecting you to trust me. I feel like I’m always fighting with myself. And now I’m fighting with you, too.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“That’s even worse,” Ashton grinds out. “I can _feel_ myself being mean to you, and I can’t stop doing it. You’re being patient and mature and kind and I’m fucking being a piece of shit.” If Luke reaches out, Ashton might throw him off, so he shoves his hands in his pockets. Ashton breathes out heavily. “I’m sorry, Luke. I think I should go to bed.”

There’s not a lot Luke can say, because Ashton’s not wrong; he’s being bitchy for no reason, and Luke suspects that he’s just tired, so sleep is the best solution. But Luke wants to give some reassurance, and he can’t come up with the words. _It’s okay_ , he’d like to say, but it’s not, but it also is; with Ashton it’s okay, always okay even when it’s not, because it’s Ashton. _I forgive you_ , he’d like to say, but Ashton will just reject it out of hand, and Luke doesn’t have the energy to argue why Ashton’s wrong, why Ashton deserves forgiveness for being an asshole. Everyone’s an asshole sometimes.

“Alone?” Luke says quietly.

Ashton closes his eyes. “You can’t possibly want to join me.” But that’s not a _yes_. It’s not even a rejection.

“I sleep better with you,” Luke tells him, careful, unsure of which lines he can cross, where he can bare his soul without Ashton taking a swing at it. 

Ashton sighs. “Yeah, I sleep better with you, but I’m —”

“You can’t be mean if you’re asleep.” Luke tilts his head. “Unless you kick me or steal the covers or something.”

Ashton cracks a wry smile, and immediately shakes his head. “One day,” he says, “you’re going to leave me. You’ll realize how much of a piece of shit I really am, and you’ll just pack up and go.”

Luke sincerely doubts it. “Not if you leave me first,” he says. Feeling safe again, he puts a hand on Ashton’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’m tired, anyway. Bedtime.”

Ashton nods, tilting his head against Luke’s hand. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, which is true but not for the reasons Ashton thinks; Ashton deserves _more_ , more than just Luke, more than Luke can give.

“Doesn’t matter,” Luke says. “You’ve got me anyway.”

Ashton exhales gently. “You’ve got me, too, you know.”

“I know,” Luke says, brushing the hair out of Ashton’s face. “I know I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) so come say hey!


End file.
